


Semblance

by notjustmom, scrub456



Series: Words, Words, Words [256]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Exhausted Sherlock, Gen, M/M, Post TFP, apologetic Mycroft, newly established Johnlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9462665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub456/pseuds/scrub456
Summary: semblance: noun: ˈsem-blən(t)s:  outward and often specious appearance or showMiddle English, from Anglo-French, from sembler to be like, seemFirst used in the 14th century





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to work through how a conversation between just Sherlock and Mycroft at 221 B would go a month after the 'concert' at Sherrinford. Can Sherlock forgive Mycroft in any meaningful way? Not sure yet...
> 
> You may consider this as sequel/side story to the Smallcroft story, "Not as strong as he thinks..."

It had been a month since Sherlock and Eurus had played for the family at Sherrinford. Their mum had forgiven Mycroft as best she could, perhaps as time went on, things would be better, but for now, Sherlock couldn't concern himself with that - he was focused on a new composition that was giving him fits, the occasional case and his new life with John and Rosie. Eurus would probably say all the 'little complicated emotions' were making the work messier than it needed to be...if she ever spoke to him again. At least up until this moment, Mycroft had been blessedly not part of the emotional context he was trying to come to terms with. An early morning text from Lady Smallwood had changed that.

 

I am texting you as an intermediary. - LS

For whom? - SH (of course he knew for whom, but he had been up with Rosie and John through teething three nights running, and a strop was long overdue)

Your brother. - LS

Assuming there are no other 'secret siblings' I presume you are referring to Mycroft?" - SH

Sherlock. - LS

I know it's complicated, I know you are still recovering, but you have a family to support you. He has only me, and it's not quite the same thing. He wanted to explain himself to you, he knows you must have questions, he wants to make things better. - LS

I understand a lot of it, I do. But, Liz - Moriarty? Mycroft has lied over and over, let me jump without truly knowing all the facts; only because of Eurus was I saved from exile and certain death, and she feels only the barest sliver of love for me, if any at all, yet she saved me, while he would not. No blood on his hands, indeed. - SH

Please. - LS

Sherlock sighed and looked down at Rosie, who had finally fallen asleep, three fingers shoved into her tiny mouth, her curls damp and disheveled. He knew he needed to give his brother a chance, as he had been forgiven so many times, it was only fair. Fair! He shook his head but typed out a response.

Give me two hours. - SH

Thank you, Sherlock, I know how hard this is. - LS

You have no idea. - SH

 

Sherlock turned off his phone, closed his eyes and thought of his newly rebuilt fl- no, it wasn't just a flat, it had been his home since the day John made his way slowly up the seventeen steps... he had come so close to losing everything, again, but this time, he had understood what he had to lose. John wasn't simply his best and only friend, John was his life, his partner, his family. Eurus, even she had known that, had understood what the loss would have done to him, but Mycroft...damn it.

"Sherlock?"

John had been standing in front of him for at least the last minute. "I could hear you thinking all the way downstairs," he said with a bit of a smile. "Mycroft?"

"Mycroft. Yes."

"You know he can't hurt you anymore?"

"I don't know that, John."

"I can be here if you need me, you don't have to do this alone." John knelt down and brushed Sherlock's lips with his own. Sherlock leaned into him as much as he could without waking Rosie.

"I know, love, but I need to do this on my own. I need to know the reasons why. And I don't know -" He stopped, and handed Rosie to John. "I don't know why he needs to speak to me so badly. I'm not sure what I'm going to be asked to forgive... perhaps you could take her to visit Molly, it's never too early for her to learn the names of the bones, or the hazards of smoking."

John took the snuffling child, and nodded. "Just text if you need me to come home, love."

"I love you."

"Yeah, I know, git, I love you more."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but grinned in spite of his roiling emotions. Some days he wished for Eurus' absolute clarity, but knew it came at too high a cost. He blew a kiss to Rosie as she and John left the flat a few minutes later, her dimpled grin and finger wiggle made him breathe a bit easier. He decided to shower and manufacture a semblance of the man he had once thought himself to be. Hard, cold, without a trace of an emotional 'complication'; he dressed in unrelieved black, curls perfectly in place, and waited for his brother's appearance.


	2. Chapter 2

He must have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes, as he jumped when there was a unfamiliar tapping at the door. 

Interesting, he never bothered before. Sherlock cleared his throat and growled out a strong "Come in, Mycroft." At least he hoped it sounded as strong and arrogant as he wanted. Somehow, he doubted it.

His brother walked in and closed the door, and hung his umbrella on the coat rack.

His steps sounded different, Sherlock decided; a bit hesitant, perhaps, but he shook it off, until he watched his brother sit in the client's chair without a word. He understood John's chair, was, well, John's chair, sacrosanct, untouchable.

"Thank you for seeing me. Alone. I didn't expect it, though it is appreciated." Mycroft began, quietly. "I know -"

"What, Mycroft? What do you know?" Sherlock spit out harshly, then regretted it as his brother flinched. "I'm sorry, I'm just not sure I'm ready for this conversation, but I understand you want to try to explain? Lady Smallwood thought it important enough to act on your behalf."

"She reached out to you on her own, Sherlock, she can be quite persuasive at times -" Something in his voice was different, Sherlock realised suddenly.

"You've had sex." Sherlock muttered with a grin that he couldn't quite suppress.

Mycroft blushed furiously and looked away, but did not deny it. "Yes," he mumbled a bit sheepishly.

"And you rather enjoy it," Sherlock smothered a snort unsuccessfully.

"Quite so." Mycroft looked at his brother finally, and Sherlock blinked.

"In love. You're in love with her. No, you've been in love with her for years. And, she with you. It's quite something, isn't it?"

Mycroft bit his lip, but nodded, then sat forward in the hard wooden chair, used by the boys to ensure quick consultations, not intended for lengthy, considered apologies, which is what he had come to deliver.

"I wanted to apologise, Sherlock. I made an error in judgment years ago, and I truly did not understand the ramifications until she blew up Baker Street. I honestly believed she was safely -"

"- locked away?" Sherlock's good mood had passed, and he stood up suddenly and walked to the window. "If she hadn't come out to 'play' would you ever have told me about her?"

"Honestly?" Mycroft looked at the floor, and shook his head.

"That is why you're here, isn't it? You weren't completely forthcoming the last time you sat in that seat."

"No, I never would have told you. I didn't see the point -"

"She saved me that night," Sherlock began in a rough, hushed voice. "The night I thought I hallucinated Faith Smith. It was Eurus. I believed, she made me believe she was a suicidal client. I took her for chips, we chatted and walked arm in arm for hours. She stopped me, Myc, from jumping again, this time for real; I don't even know why she came to the flat, whether she just needed to meet me, or was going to kill me, but changed her mind, it doesn't matter, she gave me Culverton Smith. She gave me the case that saved John, who in turn saved my life. She gave me my family, Myc, yes, she tried to take it away again, but she made me realise what John and Rosie are to me; what you are, and even she, she is a part of me, Mycroft. She is the darker side I could never understand, and the missing bits. Myc, there are holes in my mind where she had been. I just wonder, will always wonder, if I had known about her earlier, could those five minutes have been prevented?"


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. He knew he would pay for that one lapse in judgment for the rest of his life. He had no excuse, and there was no reason for Sherlock to ever forgive it. Perhaps even worse than the five minutes, were the years that followed, of trying to undo it, trying to keep his brother safe, all the...

"Lies. All the lies, Mycroft. You knew how vulnerable I was when John came into my life, you all used it against me. The idea that my 'arch enemy' wasn't just Moriarty, but a combination of the three of you: a sister I didn't even remember, Jim, and you. You were just as responsible as he for my fall from St. Bart's. Yes, we had made plans, but I think you knew how likely it was that I would have to play dead. You knew."

His brother spoke in a steady, neutral voice, but Mycroft knew what it must have taken for him to put these ideas into the words that were undeniable and damning.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"It had become something too involved for even me to control. Eurus and Moriarty had created something so vast, so intricate that I couldn't untangle it, and I didn't even know."

"You didn't know..." Sherlock whispered in disbelief.

"I didn't understand how badly Sherrinford had been compromised. I still don't know the extent of it, how often she left the island, the records have been corrupted...even now, I don't know how much I can trust what comes from the new officials there."

"You don't have to worry about her now, Mycroft, I broke her for you. I broke my sister when I threatened to shoot myself, instead of you or John. She didn't know what to do with what she witnessed, she had truly believed I would kill you, after everything, she knew it was what she would do without hesitation, and she thought after you confessed to her meeting with Moriarty, I would do the same."

"You had every right, Sherlock."

"NO." Sherlock finally turned on his brother with a fierceness Mycroft had never seen before. "I have taken one life, and I felt I had every right to end Magnussen...I still have nightmares about pulling the trigger. I was compromised; I was protecting John and Mary and their unborn child, and I didn't once consider the possibility that all of his records were in his Mind Palace. Not once. He was a terrible excuse for a human being, but still a human being, and I had no right to take his life. It was the only thing I could think to do at that moment, and he had pissed me off...literally...never mind. Point is, if I felt regret for Magnussen, how do you think I could have ever ended you, as annoying as you are, you are my brother. You did your best, I have to believe that, in a difficult situation, and I forgive you."

Mycroft blinked and tried to stand, but his legs betrayed him.

"I have to forgive you, Mycroft." Sherlock paused and walked over to his brother, then knelt in front of him, taking his brother's trembling hands in his. "If I can't, what kind of person does that make me? Yes, I will be angry and probably will find it difficult to trust you for a very long time. But, I have to believe that what you did was without malice towards me or John; honestly, if there was, I never want to know. But, brother, mine, if you are here for absolution, you will not find that here. All I can offer you is my understanding and love. I hope that is enough."

Mycroft nodded, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "That is more than I deserve, Sherlock."

Sherlock shook his head. "You have spent your life trying to love me, and I know that I have never made that easy on you, I am not an easy person to love. I know that. Thank you for being there when no one else was. Without you, I would never have met John, and have what I have now."

"You are happy then, brother mine."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, Mycroft, for the first time in my life, I can honestly say I am happy."

"Good. That's good. Oh. Look at the time."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and stood up. "Time to start another war, then?"

"I haven't been to work in weeks. I was found to be, hmmm...how was it put? 'Mentally unsuited for diplomatic work at this time.' It is interesting to find that I am not as essential to the machinery as I once believed. It has carried on without me."

Sherlock offered Mycroft his hand, then pulled him into his arms. He felt his brother freeze for a moment, then felt arms wrap around him and hold on tight for a moment. "I'm sorry, Myc."

"Don't be, brother, mine. I've had time to think about things, I've caught up on my reading, and discovering how remarkable it is to be in love with an amazing person. I haven't missed the office all that much."

"Liar." Sherlock laughed out loud, and Mycroft pulled away to look at him. He was smiling, it had been a lifetime since he could recall a time when his brother looked at him in that way. "You are ready to go back, Myc."

"Yes. The car is waiting downstairs."

"Give Liz my best."

"I will." Mycroft nodded, then walked to the door and grabbed his umbrella. "Thank you, Sherlock." Sherlock bowed his head and watched as his brother walked out the door, a few pounds lighter than when he had walked in a short time ago.

 

Are you okay? - JW

Yes, love. - SH

Have some decidedly unlovely samples for you, and Rosie has declared that the lab is one of her favourite places. - JW

Sorry? - SH

No, it's fine, it's where we met after all. - JW

Come home. - SH

On our way. - JW

I love you. - SH

I love you, too. - JW


End file.
